l
&
f ? , „ > , rv .vf1' Sr"S - * ft' ' 'ffl '
I , JOE'S STORY.
P. - j .
s J 1 w enjoying a canoe trip down tho
*
J .Allegheny in tho feummor of lSSr.and
-wtrH paddling into tho suburbs o ! Pitts-
'
' . "butR. one ovoning. uftor Bovcral weeks
.spout upon tho water , when a rough voico
Smiled mo from the river bank , requestingy
-that I should pnddlo that
ovor on sido of
} ttho rhcr in ordor that tho owner of tho
-voice might oxamino my littlo craft. I
Sound tho man upon tho bank to bo th0
foreman in ono of tho immenso foundories
vp , nCLt bvHo bocamo so interested in tho
Jjf . .auhiocfc of my trip and craft that ho in-
2 rsthtcd upon my spending tho night at his
h 3ioumc. It was a neat littlo whito-paintod
fecottage , coHy and comfortableThat
Jf -evening while sitting boforo the blazing
Jp -wood lire in the grate , which was rendered
Miecesaar.v on account of a slight chilliness
K an the out-door atmoshero
ho
, related to
jr 'T,1f lho blowing story , which I havetrans -
' crilx.d from memory Tor tho readers of the
Telegraph :
| We wero boys togsther. Jim and I , and
Kif " -"inny a time wo tried each other's strongth
P in a friendly bout at wrestling. So evenly
Jf < wero wo matched that it never was really
-sotlled as to which or us was champion of
-the school wo attended. Jim's folks and
y jnine were next door neighbors in the man-
ttfflclurins town of S , in England , and
n e two lioys were always together , hunting
innla nests , going swimming or skating.
-arid sometimes , I am sorry to
Bay , com-
wwutting depredations on tho neighboring
-orchards. Wlien Jim and I quit work wo
-were both sent to tho same iron mill. Wo
were ouch jjivon tho task of tending a big
i trip hammer , our work bringing us sido by
-aide all day. Jim sprung up Into mani1
liood a little heavier and strongor than I.
Soc I had a hard spell of tho fovor just art-
er hetting to work in tho mill. Ho grew
auto a manly man whom it did a peraon
-fitiort to see , and his heart was as big as
Ana body. But ho was that bashful and
, • 'wiwkward when women folks were about ,
"j- _ _ T 'thsit ho would often leave tho house when
• a jirl ; would happen to visit their home ,
.vd would hide away until she was gone ,
Ami yet ho was as tender-hearted as a
ibaby , and biz , hard-listed strong-minded
anan that he was. I have seen him brush
-the tears from his eyes when some bare-
Mooted bi at would como begging through
- the mill with a pitiful story of hunger and
-want upon her lips. And then ho would
.rench nto his pockets and givo the little
-u-aif every ' cent he had kent over from his
- week's waxes. And we " would all givo
-something to tho littlo beggar , although
-we needed the money at home ; for you
snay imacino that with our small pay nono
-oT us were any too forehanded in monov
.matters. *
U rich people only knew how much tho
jpoor help tin ? poor out of their little earn-
ings I think tlity would treat them differV
r * ± ntly jmd respect them a little more than
. they do. I simll never forgot how faithful-
I ly Jim helped my folks nurso mo through
| my rever , setting up with me of nights and
-curing Tor me as tenderlv as a woman
t -could have done. And after I hadgot well
i- i -eonngh to work again he would always !
' * .7-iep ) we with my task , sometimes working
taUar&'wirs that I
" so might catch up what
"I losrL y being weak-like from m v sickness-
We never had a secret from each other. \
-Jim told me of all his longings and hoped
or success in lire , and I was always as open-
.minded with him ,
, _ , The mill , with its dirt and noise and
| Tieavy work.always seemed kind of gloomv
-to both of us. and we had talked of going
| • out to America and settling on govern-
1 -inent land and farming together , and be-
rJ * coming independent , and perhaps winning
IB 1 a. homo of our own sometime ior tho mill Z
r ' didn't pay any too good wages then. We I
1 iad a hard time to et along , for Jim's '
I father and mine both died near tho same
I " - * , r ' time , about a year fter wo went into the
fc • mill. leaving us each a large iamily to sup-
I port. Perhaps it was our hard struggle
| -with .poverty that made us dislike the old
1 jniH somewhat , but there were other things a
-too. Jim always had a wish to make
jsomeching out of himseH and to beconia
Tg independent or bosses and the like ; and ,
v m tiie work we did. forever the same , and
| k / * * Among such rough hands as were cmploj * - ;
&dl ed in the mili. made it worse. Our men
k wnerally hadn't any higher aim than to n
Bp Kt < money cr.ougli ahead to get drunk on
B P Rlurti : ' .y night of each week. Jim's na- ?
I b jfimur ? was finer than theirs , and he felt his
K' jKupenority. modest as he was. The .
W f more we talked of going to America
Wj f * ! * more we wished to go ; and as I f
WE r { .nought of getting away from the terrible }
H rind of the mill work and the grimy .
H : nsrulacturing town where we lived , out
HH into tlie clear , bright atmosphere oi the
L -ountry , where we could work for our- of
I T # es , " the old mill grew more and more j
H/B J , eful to mo every day. The noise of it3 ed .
Hp I i - • imcrs and rolling wheels seemed ever
Wgjm io uq grinding into my soul , and at night
BT | hen I went to my work across the meadV
UV ow = for we had to work extra hours in
HlK th" busy season the light shining out in- .
Hmk fr < ie darkness from its great engines and
1 -oi. eB s.nd windows made it seem as
BBSL -ugh it w s some horrible demon , such
BhIa. . < . had read an goblin tales , until I-grew
Bfl * - " * )3 we aigh afraid of it sometimes , in F
B x imagination , and to wonder whether to ,
H i -ight not come out of its way to swal- .
K : , u me up in one of its angry spells. , ize
H | ' o uehow Jimdreaded the mill , and had J
H jnruc sort of a superstitious feeling about gn
B same ns I , and we used to wonder to- *
BfB rher whether we would ever get free from P
t h to
Bl 'STeiiad ' managed to save nearly enough
WM aioney to take us to America , when one er
B .lav something came into our lives that P
B s lon changed our plans. I was walking r
m tcross tho meadows to work one morning ,
H when I found a little glove lying in the f
BJ palb just before me. It was a dainty
H -love , such as would fit the hand of a fairy
H an aflgel , I thought , as I picked it up jVj
H .J drew its soft slender fingers through j01
H ue. I know that it couldn't belong to he .
H folks in the town in
y of the women , for
Bj Ji-e were none about the neighborhood BP
H o could have put it on. I was looking VB
B tho delicate little thing , and wondering He fr
B w it came to be there , when a soft , his
B ect % 'oice startled me , it was so near by : Pr
B If you please , sir , that is my glove. " I "
B ooked up , and there standing by me , was me
B a beautiful stranger girl , her rogui&h blue
B eyes looking th-ough me it seemed , and
B just such a smile on her rosebud mouth "
B as would show that she was amused
B sit . my studying so deeply over her glove. '
m 4Jiiary" was her name , and she was the see
I daughter of our new engineer , who had
W just moved into the place. In going , .
I to the mill with her fnther she had * "
I dropped the glove where I fouud it , and ,
f , had returned to look for it. These facts "
ed
-abe told m6 on our way to the mill , as . ,
*
I r he tripped along by my side , seeming his
-scarcely to bend the blades of grass upon
which she .
stepped.
tu
the
I bad felt a sort of shock when I first "
saw her standing in the path before me , " '
and by the time we got to the mill I would ' "
have died for that girl. I didn't know "
what it was then , but I knew afterward. * "
ed
jLove comes kind of sudden sometimes , „
, and sometimes again it comes slow ; but it it
comes to stay , just tho same , if it is true
vZove. which ever way it may come. I saw a „
Jlary often in the next few weeks , "
and r grew dpeper in love with her every Jc
day. She brought dinner and supper to
iier father , and every time sho passed the ful
rreat hammer where I worked , her bright IU
niile seemed to light up tho grimy mill , ' "
iust as though it wero heaven , while she I
.was there. Every one in the mill grew to
dike Mary , and even the roughest hand
'
-ould take off hfa Hat her presence , as
. that she was a
.acknowledging
' '
* "
L ' „ „ . beTn" . I often wondered
nSncS how kindly she spoke st
To meand how iriendly the nod and how up
SlSS the smile which sho cave mo mpassth
- L at work for fo
f nlace where we were ;
t" fco quite well acquainted in m
itZ , . * * . * ] ! after her arrival , and I had tli
' , tb ? tol S rhirch ft time or two. But Jim f r.
tekenher when she hr
1
" 'Ld never voluntarily spoko to her. be
Cfanvori happen to mention m
• When any while " " beiwu about , ho would alm
4er name DObj ed
change tho subjo t once or
either
. ffay8 fc
, turn and walk away. * ftl bnshrulness few
account or bis naror
„ rM on
ai&ssr ysa > * - oae in
; -
"
k li"lp being Interested in Sfary. Some *
how Jim and I got ho that wo seldom
spoko of our plan ol going to America , and
when wo did mention it , it was only half-
heartcdly. ' I would not have gone away
now and loft Mary's presonco for a free
gift j to mo of nil tho world's wealth : and I
studied many an hour over tho best man *
nor in which to break tho matter to' .Iim
that I had givon up going. And ono day
whon I had mustered up courage enough
to say to him that I thought wo
could do hotter in tho old mill for
iv whiloyot , ho quito took my breath away
by ] turning suddenly and grasping my hand
in \ his , whilo ho said it was just his
idea also. I was so surprised , for
J know that ho had set his heart on going ,
and I could not fathom the reason for his
suddon conversion. But I was to happy
in the thought that neither of us wero to
go ' to wonder long ovor his chango of mind ,
Mouths rolled on and Mary and I were
plighted lovers. I hnd never said anything
to Jim about my groat happiness ; for tho
love I had for Mary seomoJ to sacred a
thing ] to speak of even to Jim. I was in
Mary's compan3' nearly every evening ,
Jim and I hnd been accustomed to taking
long i walks together of evenings , but now
ho strayed off alone , quiet and melancholy
it appeared to me. I was sorry for hini ;
and thinking that maybe my neglect of
him was tho caiiBO of his downhcartedne3S
I sometimes tried to rally him and joke
with him about his reserved ways , but
he seemed rather hurt , by my words ,
and soon began to avoid mo as much
, ns possible and to wander away by
himself into quiet places where ho would
bo apt to moot with no ono. As
soon ' as my wedding day was fixed I
determined ' to tell Jim about our engage-
ment. , When I revealed it to him ho
started back as though surprised , and
then ! recovered himself ho slowly reached
out his hand and congratulated mo in a
husky , reserved tone of voice , so different
,
from his usual cheery , good-natured
manner ; of speaking that I noticed it oven
then. And then his eyes took on a far-
away look , and he turned from mo in a
way I could not understand. It seem-
ed so cold and unnatural , .vhen I had
expected such a different reception of the
news. I sprang after him with the cry on
my lips : "Jim. old boy , you don't bear
mo ' any ill will , do you ? " He turned , and
t I saw that his faco was as pale as though
j" were a ghost , but with an effort he
laughed ! the matter off by saying he was
taken \ with a sudden pain in his side. And
then . he spoke in such a hparty way , like
his old self , and talked so rapidly about
what a happy man I ought to be , that I
soon forgot his strango words and stranger
actions. After this ho never would remain
nlono with mo for a moment. Ho began
- to neglect his duties a great deal , in one
instance oven having high words with the
superintendent ol the mill over some
work which ho had carelessly
done. It was so different from his former
self that everybody noticed it. I wonder-
ed if his chango toward me was from the
fnct that I had neglected his company for
that , of Mary , but I didn't like to say " any-
thing V to him about it lest he might misun-
derstand ' me and feel hurt.
One night and I shall never forget that
night to my dying day , fori still dream
of it , and shudder always at its remem-
brance. It was a Wednesday night , and
Mary . and I were to be married the follow
ing Monday. I was sitting by the fire at
home about ready to retire to sleep , when
some one knocked at the door. I was
startled on opening it to find Jim there.c
for it had been a long time since ho had
been to see me. I invited him to walk in.
buthe excused himself and said that the
Wales had como in and tied up at the
dock < , and that tho superintendent had
sent for us to go to the mill for night'
work. I was not surprised at this , for we
were ' frequently called on to finish some
work up at night for shipment by steamer
arri ving at the wharf earlier than expect-
ed , so I told Jim to wait a moment and
would be ready. Throwing on my workv
ing blouse and hat 1 joined him and we
started for tho mill.
It was a very dark night , for a storm
was ' brewing and the sky was covered with
clouds. Jim walked in front of me withc
out uttering a word , and I having become
accustomed to his late queeruess or man-
ner. ; followed as silently. _
We soon reached the edge of tho town ,
and then struck across the old familiar
path through the meadows. In the dis-
tance the lights of the great mill shone out
from its hundred windows like tho eyes of
dragonand < the lower story , with its red-
ly gleaming furnares , seemed the maw ol
some great monster prepared to swallow
those who came within its reach.
All my old dread of the mill came back
to me with tenfold force. You may call it
superstition , if you like , but I shuddered ,
hesitated , and was half inclined to
turn back. Shaking off this strango
feeling with an effort , I continued on. On
entering the building , I noticed that none
the other ' "hands" were there , and when
, spoko toJim about it.he quietly remarkfr
, that the superintendent had 3ent for
them and that they would he there presp
ently , Passing to our usual places , Jim
pointed out some bars that were to be
hammered into shape , and as the steam
was up and everything readyI slipped the
belt npon the pulley and stooped to lift
one . of the bars into place. Suddenly , and
without warning , I received a heavy Wow
upon the head ; I felt myself seized by a
powerful grip from behind and was forced
the floor , iace downward , my handB
bound behind me , and before I could realo
. what was occurring I found myself
lying upon my back , tied securely to tho
anvil beneath the great steam hammer ,
Stunned , for the moment , almost to the
point of unconsciousness , I yet managed
turn my head sufficiently to see that
Jim was standing at my feet. I shall nevw
forget that awful sight. It was Jim ,
my old friend and schoolmate , but never
before had there been such a change in a
human being. He was bareheaded and hi3
eyes were bloodshot , the veins in his forer
head stood out like dark cords , his face
was wildly demoniacal in his expression
and his mouth was filled with a white I
foam , flecked with drops of blood , where
had bitten through and through his lip
his excitement. I pray God I may be
Bpared such a sight again. His close-knit ,
perfect form was drawn to its full height.
had an arm raised , and the finger of
hand was touching the lever , which , f
pressed upon , would release the steam c
hammer for its descent. He leaned over c
until I could feel his hot breath on my o
cheek and hist from between his set teeth : e
"You won my Mary from me with your A
accursed ways but she shall never be your u
wife. You shall die here the death that it
you deserve , and I will bring her here to S
. what a handsoinecorpse you will make w
when you have been crushed under your e
own hammer , " And a fiendish laugh rang fi
through the rafters of the old mill. The tl
truth flashed through my mind in an intl
staht. , ' Ah ! now I knew why Jim had actw
so etrangely of late months. He loved gi
Mary with that intenso nature of his , and tl
. unrequitted love had unbalanced his d
mind. His maddened brain had conceived ci
idea of crushing me with my own hama
mer ' , the one at which I had worked so si
long , and he had como to the mill , fired the a
engine , started tho machinery in motion , w
and ' had then called for mo with an inventv
tale of night work. I saw it all now.
Fool that I had been not to havo realized tl
before. Yes. I now lay at the mercy of n
madman , the slight pressure of whose fc
finger upon thelevor would crush me into a li
jelly. I looked up to the mass of iron and w
steel suspended above mo , awaiting only tho h
manaic's pleasure to descend with dreadt
: force. I thought of my schoolboy days i
and tho many happy hours Jim and I had A
spent togetherof ; my first meeting with my w
loved Mary , and of our following courtw
ship , and of the happy day that would s
have como so soon when I should havo t
called her "wife. " is
It seemed hard to die thuB without a P
struggle iust when lire had begun to open • '
its brightest prospects for me. Then my
thoughts lifted as I lay there , to long since
forgotten incidents of my life , occurrences
many of which I repented of. and wished
that I could enter tho other world free *
from . their results , and littlo sins which I % °
had committed considering thorn trifling °
boforo but which loomed up in these last c
moments to graver dimensions. A dying
man thinks rapidly , and although it seem- J
an age to mo yet all these reflections B
must havo passed through my mind in a j
seconds of timo. Was there no hope
forme ? That awful face , lately wreathed J
twisted Into "
smiles of friendship now
Tf , , " " " . - - ' • - * srrsa : sssss aasesBa
- * . it- * A
| - IHIIII ' i mi lil-TTYl * * * - *
an exproraion of tho deadliest hatred ,
nnaworcd "no. " It scorns strango to mo
now , but I do not think I uttered a word
of pleading in those seconds when my 11 fo
hung by so slender a thread. Tho uttor
hopolcHsness j of appeal as shown by tho
determined faco nnd set teeth of tho mad-
. man may havo deterred mo.
'
' Suddenly I remembered having heard
that a madman could bo appeased , some
times by falling in with his humor , when
he j could not bo coaxed or driven. It was
J I a last desperate hopo that moved me , but
still a hope. I mustered all my Bolf-posses-
, sioit for tho effort , and speaking to Jim in
ns steady a voice as I could I acknowledge-
cd that 1 deservod death at his hand , but
that before ho took my life I should like to
havo j tho privilege of writing a lino to my
mother , telling her whero to find tho mon
ey I hud saved up , that she might receive
it j and ho comforted in her old age. I knew
that Jim thought tho world of my mother ,
who had always been so kind to him , and
I judged that I could best reach his
feelings in that way than any other.
And I was right nbout it , for although ho
hesitated j , yot when I had promised him I
would not attompt to escape , but that if
ho j would allow me to go over to the desk ,
which stood in ono corner of the room ,
when I had finished the letter I would re
turn to tho hammer and allow him to
robind me ns I was , ho seemed satisfied.
Stoopinp , he cut the ropo which bound mo
nnd lifted mo to my feot. But he still held
mo with a strong grip , nnd , brandishing a
short iron bar about my head , threatened
to end my life tho moment I made an
effort to escape. Leading me to the desk
he j placed pen and paper boforo me and
with tho iron bar still held in a threaten
ing ; attitude commanded mo to write
quickly. Tho cords had been bound so
tightlj' about my wrists that thoy had cut
tho flesh , and as I grasped tho pen the
blood from my wounds trickled down and
stained the paper with its crimson drops'
I was still dazed from tho effects of the
blow upon my head and tho suddenness of
it alland my brain whirled so that I scarce-
ly j knew what I wasdoing. Icould not think
of a word to write , but the dreaded voice
of the madman at my side telling me , in
nervous , impatient tones , to "hurry up , "
chilled me through with thoughts of my
situation and what was to follow tho com-
plotion of my letter. Weakened as I was ,
\ was no match for the strong man besido
mo , now doubly strong with a madman's
strongth. But I had always been more
agile than Jim , and I knew thatbohind mo
a , short distance there was a horizontal
fixed bar of wood , just below the ceiling ,
which had been used as a storage rack , but
waB now unoccupied. In our noontime
athletics I had often sprang and grasped
it with my hands , swinging there and
"skinning the cat , " as we called it , bo-
Death it. But Jim , with his heavier body ,
never was able to spring high enough to
roach it , although he had frequently tried
to do so. Just above this bar there was
an opening in the floor of the upper story ,
made years ago for the passage of a large
bolt , now unused. If I could elude the
madman for a moment and reach that bar
j might gain a respite , at lenst , but his
grip upon my arm was as tight as ever and
his tones were now so fierce that I knew I
could keep him from violence but a little
while longer.
A thought came to me. I stopped my
pen on a downward stroke , and looking
up into his face I said as coolly as I
thought it was a matter of the least inter-
est in tho world to me , "Jim. who is that
coming up tho stairway ? " The ruse sue-
ceeded. Thrown off his guard he released
his hold on my arm , stepped a few paces
toward . the stairway and bent his head to
listen. Like a flash I made ft rush for the
bar , dodging the piece of iron which the
madman in his fury threw at me and
which buried itself in the opposite wall.
J Quick , now ! I just bad time to grasp the | I
bar ' and draw myself above it when Jim j
sprang at me , narrowly missing my feet
with his fingers ; then up through the hole. I
out of breath but aS liberty. But it |
seemed as though my liberty must end in j i
a , very short time , for then ? was no sufli-
cient hiding place in the room , and 3
could already hear tho madman's feet up-
on , tho stairway which he was ascending
three J steps at a time. I must think rapid6
ly. Where was I to look for help ? What
was I to do ? The floor upon which I
stood was the uppermost one in the
mill. From it a ladder led to
the roof by means of a trap-door. But
this door was a heavy one , and long be-
fore I could lfffe its ponderous weight , sufli-
ciently ] to get upon the roof I would be
overtaken by my pursuer.
Suddenly 1 rcmembred that a stout '
lightning rod ran to the ground , fastened
to the wall near a window , opposite
where I was standing. The window was
open. I darted , rather than ran , to it , I
and stepping upon the sill I stretched my i ,
arm along the outside wall. Yes , thank j |
God ! I could reach it. I wrapped' my finj j
< about the rod and - ' !
gers swung mjbody
from the window. I was not a moment
too < soon , however , for I could hear my
pursuer spring to the upper floor and bet ( !
gin his search for me. I was swinging high
above the ground and if my hold slipped I
must bo dashed to pieces by the fall. 11 1
must be quiet , too , for the rod rattled in
its glass insulators at every movement I.
made. Slowly , and with superhuman ef
forts , I descended , but just as 1 reached
within ten or twelve feet of the ground the
rod broke with my weight , at a defective
place , and I fell with a crash upon a pile I
of boards. The noise brought Jim to I j
the window and at once he realized how 11 I
had given him the slip. With dreadful
curses on his lips more dreadful because I i
they ] were the first I had ever heard him | I
litter I saw him reach out for the rod ,
and then I got upon my ieet and ran to
ward the town whose houses looked so
dark and dim and far away.
It was a wild race for life across those
meadows , cither imaginary or real , for I
never knew whether he climbed down the
rod < and followed me or not. It seemed as
though I never would get to town , but
when my strength was well nigh exhausted
sank down upon tho doorstep of the
first house I rame to and succeeded in
arousing the family within. In as few
words as possible I told them what had
occuircd , and in ashort whileallthat por-
tion of the town was notified and a largo
party formed for the purpose of searching
for Jim. Weak as I was , 1 insisted uponac-
companying < them. Just as we turned , the
corner < of the village church , which had shut
out the view across the meadow , somo ono
exclaimed : : "My Godl the mill is on fire ! "
And true enough there was the mill before
us with a tall shaft of fire springing from
its roof. The madman had fired the mill !
Sending one man back to alarm tho town ,
we hurried forward. By the time we reachI
ed < the mill the whole upper story was on
fire , while the flames were breaking out
through a dozen places in the roof. Upon
the tallest point of the roof , hedged about
with fire stood Jim , his form appearing
gigantic in size as it was outlined against ,
the dark clouds of the sky. Seeing us he
danced demoniacally in his rage uttering
curses upon mo for having stolen his bride
and only pausing in his imprecations to
send out the wild , ringing laugh of a mani
ac upon the night air. We did everything
we could to reach and save him , but alt in
vain.
In a very few minutes after our arrival
the flame-wrapped roof fell in , and the
mill was a furnace of fire. Poor Jim a y
fearful ending to the bright dreams of his >
life ! As the result of that awful night. I
was taken down with brain rever anil lay j -
lor weeks hovering between this world and !
the next , and was only won back to earth ' '
through the tender eare of my loving i
Mary. As soon as I was able to resume I
work we were quietly married. The mill 1
was rebuilt ; but the place was too full of
saddening ; memories to us , and so wo camo r
to this country years ago. My wife here .
the "Mary" of my story and the occu
pant of the crib over there is our little t
Joe , 3 years old next week. Germantown t
Telegraph. (
Senator Halo and tho other members of ,
'
the United States senate committee have
begun at New York tho investigation of the J
operation of the civil service law in the t
custom house. It is probable that Sur- c
veyor Beattie3 department will ho taken (
up first. Beattie glories in his uttor disre- j
gard of tho civil service law. Another of
ficial ! who will receive special attention is
Deputy Collector Davis , who has half a t
dozen relatives in tho various department } I
\n violation of the civil service law. t
.
' " " " " ' '
nMBMm * > i mmmmli i n ini I < >
How the Japanese Sleep.
Tho Japanese bed is simply a futon
spread upon the matting. They lie on
this and spread another futon over
them and rast their heads upon wood
en pillows and are happy. A futon is
a thickly wadded cotton quilt , exact
ly like our comfortable , and a very
nice arransement such a , bed is for the
housekeeper. The bed is easily made ,
and in the morning tho futon is folded
and put away in a closet , and the
"chamber work" is done. They wear
no night dresses , but as every person ,
even in tho poorest and humblest sta-
tion , takes a hot bath once , and in
the majority of cases twice , a day ,
there is nothing uncleanly in the wear-
ing ol the same dress at night which is
worn in the day. The one futon
spread ; upon the matting was rather
a hard bed for our unaccustomed
sides ' , so we had six or eight thickness-
es ' put down , and instead of the lux-
urious wooden pillow we had one
futon rolled and put at the head of
our alleged couch. Thus we made
really a comfortable bed. Then mosii
quito-nettings were brought in , and
the Japanese have reduced this branch
of household comfort to a science ,
The ' nets are as large as the room , and
fastened by the corners to hooks in
each j corner of the room , and when
one has gracefully and quickly crawlv
ed ' under the edge , as boys in my day
used to crawl under the canvass of a
circus i tent , he is as comfortable and
secure | as possible. Nets for children
are ; made on little frames and put
over \ the children wherever sleep over1"
takes them , and I have often and oft-
en ( seen children in all the innocence of
unclothed i nature in verandas , and
porches , and open front rooms of
houses , covered by these nettings ,
sleeping the sweet sleep of Japanese
childhood. ' I believe children sleep
there 1 better than they do in any othit
er ( land , for ] do not now recollect
that \ I ever heard a child cry at night
in j all my travels in Japan , and there
were often many of them at the tead
houses where we stopped. I do not
generalize I and say that children do
not i cry at night in Japan , for that
would not be tru ? , and beside might
cive [ young American mothers an unw
duo desire to go there. I only say
that I never heard the dread sound.
Japan Letter.
*
A Remedy for Croup.
From J Good Housekeeping.
"Croup caused the death of six of
my children. Can you wonder that I
should feel alarmed when my only re-
.
maining child exhibits the slightest
symptoms of a cold ? " asked a mother
sorrowfully. "Sometimes the doctor
could . not come at once. I was afraid
to apply remedies without being ad-
vised * and and "
While the mother was speaking her
only child , a pretty little cirl seven
years old came running toward ns
, with hands uplifted , gasping for
breath. '
"What shall I do ? The doctor is
out of town will not be back until
this evening ! " cried the mother franc
tically.
Bemembering a child of our own
who was attacked in a similar manct
ner , we procured a pail , filled it with
hot water and quickly removing the
little 1 one's shoes and stockings placed
her feet in the pail. We lost no time
si roasting three onionsthen mashing
them spread them upon a folded napc
kinpouring over the whole a spoonful
of eoose-grease ( lard or sweat oil will
dcas well. ) The poultice was applied
as hot as couid be borne to the
throat and upper part of the neck. In
ten minutes the quick short gasps
ceased and at the end of half an hour
the child , warmly wrapped in a soft
blanket was gleephm soundly. The
skin was moist and the breathing
natural ; all syptoms of the dreaded
scourge-had disar > t.earpd as if by magH
ic.
For children who are subject to
croup.make a little bib out of chamois
skin , cut the neck and sew on tapes
to tie it on , then melt together some
tallow and pine tar , rub some of this
in the chamois and let the child wear *
.
ft all the time. Renew with the tar
occasionally.
_ S
Were You Ever Jilted ?
Were you ever jilted ? Really , truly ,
emphatically kicked over for another
fellow in-the very hight of your love
and adoration ? Ii you ever wero I
wish you would write me an account d
oi it and tell me how you felt. Of
courseeverybody knows that luxurin
ously miserable sensation of having a
row with the youna lady and feeling
proud of yourself for not having re
minded , her how often you paid for
theater tickets and stood ice-cream
and' | oysters. Everybody knows the P'
delicious feeling of flinging an intense ,
hurt : , picking up your hat , bouncing j'
out into'the cold night and reflecting
as you go home what pangs she will .
feel when she finds you at the opera
next time with her deadliest and
l _ pretA
tiest rivjil. Some people know the „
peculiar sensation of having the dead- .
liest J and prettiest rival refuse the inJ
vitatioa . , and the hopeless fiasco of ,
trying { it on with some other and r
plaineryouns woman. And anyway • ,
mos t of us have experienced the hu
miliating reaction of doing the hum
ble explanation business , and being
iorgiven j , for thinking we could get „
away with the young woman. But I
never met a man who would stand
right up and say he had been thrown sl
clear over the young woman's head , ai
- San Francisco Chronicle. tl
- bj
Great Waterfalls. tc
According to a recent calculation , , tc
the-highest waterfalls in the world are P
the three Krimbs Falls , in the Uppery
Prinzgau ; these falls , have a total
height of 1.148 feet. The three falls I w
next in height are found in Scandinam
via the Verme Foss , iu Romsdal ,
9S-4 feet ; the Vettis Foss , on the
Sogue Fjord. So3 feet ; the Bjuken
Foss , in Thelemarken , SOI feet.Vl
With a decrease in heighv of 213 feet , sc
the three Veil no Falls , 591 feet , near
Zerni ( the birthplace of Tacitus ) , fol- q
low next in order , and they are suc
ceeded by the three Tessa Falls , in
the Val Formazza , 511 feet. The F
Gastein Falls , in the Gastein
Valley , 469 feet , rank bedi
tween the Skjacgedal Foss , in the 0j
Hardanaer Fjord , 424 feet , and the
Boring Foss , in the same Fjord. Jf "
the width of the falls is taken into Q
consideration the most imposing are cc
those of the Victoria Falls of the tl
Zambezi , which are 394 feet high , bi
with a width of 8,200 feet. A lone a
wav behind these falls come the D
Niagara Falls , 177 feet high and w
l.9laS feet wide. b
I ;
k _
' ' '
* '
A .REMARKABLE ROMANCE.
The Wlarr1ao of a Youn V/oman
to tho ' 'DoUJjJo" of Hor Bo-
trothod.
Westminster ( Md. ) Chicngo Ilerald
The deathbed confession of Edmund
Davies , who died recently in Carroll
County , has just been made public
and is a sequel to a strango story.
His life was a remarkable one in
many instances. Twenty-two years
ago Edmund Davies was a young man
.
in his twentieth year. He was not
handsome and. neither was he ill *
looking. ] < He had a younger brother
ju3t j , eighteen. His name was Frank ,
and he was an exact double of Ed-
mund. The two brothers lived alone ,
except an old negress , their housekeeps
er. The parents of tho boys had died
many years before. It was early in
1804 that Edmund Davies began payc
ing attention to Fannie Forbes , the
young daughter of a neighboring farm-
er. The brothers were very much at
tached to each other , and Frank also
was a frequent visitor to the Forbes
farm dwelling. The girl often took the
ono forthe other.and some time after-
wards agreed upon a signal with Ed-
mund , so that she could readily know
to whom she was talking , The
neighbors could not identify the
brothers , and they were known
only and referred to as the
Davies boys. It was the girl that sug-
gested to Edmund that when he came
to her he was to use the "Latin word
"idem" ( the same ) . Time passed ,
and after a courtship of six or seven
months Edmund proposed marriage.
Fannie accepted because she had
learned ] to love him fervently. Then
it was that she asked him whether he
did not have some mark on his arm
or hand by which she could readily
distinguish him in case of sudden
death or serious accident , lie told
the girl that on his next visit he
would , disclose a mark by which she
would recognize him in any case. Ed- '
mund went home , his mind fraught i
with pleasure because he was to marw ;
ry the girl of his heart. lie loved his
younger brother very much , and en-
trusted his secret to him.
Frank in his innermost heart , too ,
loved 1 Fannie Forbes , and the con-
fession of his brother stirred his jeal-
ousy. He was bright of thought and
possessed an active mind. He wanta
ed to marry Miss Forbes. The day
following the brothers came to this
place . and Edmund procured a mar- j
riage license. Frankrsmind was evolvej
inga scheme by which he could thwart
his brother's marriage. He proposed {
a trip to Baltimore , persuading Ed's
mund to despatch a messenger to
his sweetheart that they had gone to
the Monumental City for the especial
purpose of having a tattoo mark
placed between the first and second
finger of his right hand. While in
Baltimore they met an old friend of
their dead father , Captain Aker , of
the ocean steamer Franklin. The .
captain said he would sail the next I
day , for Australia , and was very soli-1
citous that the namesake of his de- j
ceased friend should accompany him.
It < was Edmund. He hesitated. The |
eaptain told him oi the pleasures of
the trip and the fine country to which |
he would sail and being urged by '
Frank he yielded to the influences and
consented. That evening he wrote
a farewell letter to his intended wife , , -
bidding her to await his coming , and jj
that he was hopeful of gaining fortune *
" (
ir the distant country. The marriage j
license < was enclosed in the letter. <
"Remember Idem" were the histv1
words. The next morning , Friday , ' "
August 24 , the Franklin started on *
the trip. Now Frank had an open , *
field < , and he improved the time woni i
derfully < well. He did not hesitate , j
His first work was to read the letter.re
The word "Idem" seemed to puzzle V
him. ; but he remembered hearing his
brother use it when approaching the -
girl , and he hit upon the correct "
meaning at once. Next he had his
right hand , tattooed. He would marcc
ithe girl lie loved , he thought , and
assumed ; the name of Edmund. ?
His return home alone caused '
some talk , but when the mail brought fc
the weekly newspapers announcing , w
the departure of one of the Davies
boys of Carroll County for Australia "
jr the Franklin all was well. Troncetl
forth Frank was known as Edmund.ul
Even though he gave the correct word s
signal , Fannie Forbes seemed to nl
doubt hisidentity , but after the JC
marriage had been postpoued for a
month , which was very acceptable to m
Frank , she feit assured he was Edal
mund , and they were married. The s1'
union was a happy one , indeed , but , "
no ' children were born to bless their '
happiness. Years went by and they "c
prospered ' , and by strict economy
saved a good amount of mone1Ten m
years ' after they had been married the .
husband was in Baltimore , and there 31'
ascertained ihat his brother had ditd aJ
in Australia and had willed all his '
earnings to Frank. This knowledge
the husband imparted to his wife. *
The , woman never knew until the day nl
before he died that her husband was _
Frank Davies. But she had loved Ji
him if he had v
just as dearly as been
Edmund , and forgave him freely. He "
died apparently happy. I
= - - 3 |
lo
Where Silence Was Safety. , j w
Boston Coumr.
Jepson I notice that you always n
speak well of me to my face , Jobson ,
and while I have no reason to believe m
that you do otherwise behind my vi
back.I think it does not harm a man ly *
be criticised by his friends tobe
told his little faults. I know I'm not
ge
perfect ( , and I would be glad to have bi
you < remind me of the fact sometimes. z ]
Jobson Tell you of your faults ? te
Jepson You criticise me. Tell me cl
what your honest private opinion of &
me is. That's what I want. ©
Jobson Jepson. you are six feet sl
two. and I am five feet four , and you ai
want me to give you my honest pri- dj
vate opinion of yon ? No , sir-ee , Jobhi
son , my boy , I'm. no fool ! rt
i
- - < *
H
Dr. Anna Kingsfords Delud
sion. a
From : the New York World. *
Dr. Anna Kingsford , who recently
died in London , believed , as did many n
her friends , that she was the reemw
bodied ' spirit of Lady Jane Grey , ly |
Queen of England for nine days , three "
centuries or more ago. She visited in
the Tower of London one day , in the
body of Dr. Kingsford , and became .
acquainted < with herself , as it wer * .
Dr. Kingsford was a very brilliant- °
woman , and learned languages and fa
history : with wonderful ease.
*
_ \ * i .
* * ? * rrtf V - i $ sSUs BSw l3iPspwiPB
j
v i i. . - , rl * T- . " ! " - - irT . - . .Yr.fflM ,
Emile's Highi fit The Ball.
Trafiarated < from tho French for tho Dally
News.
In a chamber quilted with sntin ,
before ] a blazing fire which flashed
against the tall copper and irons , sat
little j Emilo one evening in February
waiting , for his mamma. It was eight
o'clock. Tho maid had tried to put
him j to bed , but ho had resisted with
all his might , holding fast to the arms
of the big chair , and resolved not to
go to sleep until he had kissed his
mother. She told him that she would
be j home for dinner , and sho had nob
come. With a mournful look on his
little j face ho had eat alono at the
great dining-table , underneath tha
soft lamp , and looked at tho cutlet
which the temme de chamber told him
he must eat. But tho littlo fellow
could not eat not even tho cakes at
desert and had pushed away from
the table to bury himself again in tho
easy-chair , his legs curled under
him 1 and his eyes fixed anxiously
on the fire , which shot up tho
chimney in long flames. Finally ho
.
became interested in tho occupation
of Ilortense , the femme de chamber ,
who was laying out a beautiful skirt
covered with embroidery and a mag
nificent corsage laced in front. What
did it all mean ? He had never seen
his mother dressed liko that. There
was something unusual going on. He
asked Hortense about it , but she
would not tell him anything , so
struggling hard against sleepiness , he
made up his mind to find out in his
own way.
In all his trouble ho did not think
of findmg fault with his mother. It
was Ilortense who was to blame.
Why should she want to send him to
bed , the wicked girl , when he had been
waiting so long to see his mamma ?
Probably sho had been detained at
.
the ] dress-maker's. He remembered
that , she had taken him with her once
to ' a house where there were manne-
kins . dressed like ladies , and grand sa-
Ions with mirrors all over tho walls ;
and . he had had to wait a long , long I .
time. He rememberedtoo , that they .
had . got home very late. So it was f
the same to-dajr , hedecided hismotha
ej had gone to the dressmaker's.
When everything was ready on the .
bed the silken chemises dainty with
lace , the white satin bodice , the finely ?
woven stockings Ilortense came back
to tho child with the fix d purpose of
putting him to sleep , Madame had
charged her to do so before she should
return , as she was going to a ball with .
her ' husband , and wished to spare her ,
biiby boy the grief of knowing that he .
had been leftalone. . But Emile had a
will of his ownand do what she could .
Hortense ! got always the same reply : .
"No , no , I won't go to bed. I want to „
see mamma. " Then , fearing that she ,
might take him away by force , he lor- ,
tilled himself in the chair with all his
strength J and against the expected at P
tack/Force and persuasion alike failv
ed to shake his determination , and he ,
sat silent and unhappy listening to
the carriaaes which rumbled down the
Rue ; de Rome , hopinc that one of 8
them | would stopat the door , and |
that l he would at least see his mam.1
ma. Finally.out of all patience Dor-
tense carried away tin * lamp , leaving o
Emile -v1 in the dark , and th" unsteady an
light of the fire threw weird shadows ro
about the room which ft sghcened him. p
Still ' he did not give up. j
Suddenly there was a noise in the ly
ante-chamber. She had come. He '
recognized the musical and caressing ?
voice which always made him so hapjj
py. "What , " he heard her say to ,
Pj let
Hortense , "not in bed yet ! Oh , the J
naughty boy. " And then he saw her
before him , the bright eye.3 , brilliant
color , and laughing lips , which heknew
sc well. She saw him look over at the
grand toilet spread before them , seem-
ins to ask mutely what It was all for ,
j"
the | ; fine dress and the open corsage F
which . he had never seen before. But
his mother made HO'reply ' , only kiss- ,
ing ? him kindly. Emile's anxiety grew
the keener and he straightway made
ul his mind to follow his mother
secretly and find out all about it for
himself.
my
, "Tell me , mamma , " he said slyly , ,
"I will go to bed.but you'll come with
me , won't you ? You will tuck me in
at
all tight and them I will go right to „ .
sleep. '
bo
"There , " said the mother delighted , .
"I knew my little boy would be ,
good. " ?
"But what areyou going to do ,
mamma ? " '
"J , why I am going to bed after you .
just as 1 alwavs ' do. What makes you
ask that ? " °
• • And you are not going out a ain ? " my
"Why , what an idea. Emile ! Where his
would I be going to at this time of -
night ? " "J.
. "Que tu esgentille , " said little ma g
Emile , "I knew you would do what I
wanted. Good-night , mamma , " but a"J
he knew in his-heart that his mother
was deceiving him.
So. deceiving her in his turn , he al-
lowed himself to be undressed as she
wished : , and , with curtains drawn , he the
nestled among the pillows for the as
night. But hissieep was only preme
tended , and , with a child's cunning. , and
dissimulated j so well that his half-open
mouth and even breathing soon con0O1
vinced. his mother that she could safeas
beginher toilet. ped
Quickly calling Hortense she donned „ 0
her handsome ball-dress , which , gor
geous with satin ribbons and emwr
broideries , rendered her quite dazeni
zling. Emile. peering through the cursm
tains , thought her so lovely , the tai
charming and coquettish Lucy Van- , .
dal , that he fain would have sprung Zli
out ' of bed aad kissed those beautiful ? "
shoulders with their soft tint3 of pearl ; just
well
and rose. Presently the chambere
door was opened , and Emile heard "a
his father asking iEhis mother was F
J3 \ > li
ready.
"Yes , in a moment , " rc-plied she . .
Her toilet being finished , Lucy Vanwc
dal ; was indeed adorable. Hortence not
assured ; her mistress that no one at °
the } ball would b& more beautiful than * V
she. Emile lost not a word of this , his
and great sobs arose in his throat , ness
nearly stifling him. At last his mother P °
went out. He heard her laughing gaytei
in the hail at her husband's teas
ing compliments. "Veux-tu te taire ! "
were ; the last words he heard uttered 1
the laughing , silvery tones of his 'or
mother , as the door closed after the Pa _
happy couple. Bitterly grieved , jeal- ers , ] a
ous of her , as all children are where TO
mother means the whole family , his Us
teare burst forth anew , and to smother [ ha
, . . . _ . _ _ _ _
?
]
. . . . .
i. - --i r - „ mt
them he buried his faco in the bed * m
clothes. He fancied himself , with tho , lj
sudden despair bo frequent in Benai- V
tivo children , entirely abandoned by Mi
his mother , who cared more for her % \
pleasure than for him. This dreadful c S' '
thought . aroused him , impelling him jig
to an action , which , in his littlo \m
world , seemed liko suicide. Ho drena- m
ed himself swiftly and silently , and , * - > . m
opening tho back stairway door , ho \ v * a
cautiously made his way into tho \r J |
street. * > H
It was a dark , cold night in Febru- * yi
ary , and tho wind was piercing. 'J
Whero should he sleep ? He had no 9
cloak , no scarf about his neck , and | ] 5 |
his littlo frock was ill-buttoned , as M
would naturally bo the caso wir.h a | *
boy not accustomed to dressing him-
self. He crept along hurredily close to W
the walls to avoid at the same timo "ft
tho dreaded wind and tho equally Jf
dreaded policeman , for ho had been v { ' „
told that these latter carried ol ! boys • *
and whipped them until tho blood j'/
came , and then locked them up in
black dungeons with horrible spiders
and rats. From certain words over
heard whilo his mother was dressing ,
he knew that sho had gone to the Rue.
Saint-Lazare , and he set out in that
direction. Arriving there ho saw a
houst ) brilliant with lights , a great . '
crowd before the door , and carriages
rolling < up to the grand staircase. \i \
That * was where his mother was , he i
(
was sure of it ! Supposo ho should go
into j the ball with tho others , what
would they say to him ? , . -
Emik kept watching the crowd , the <
hotel ' , tho lustrous lights. His mind
was filled with but ono idea to find
.
his j mother he must mount the stair- |
case before him , follow the fine gpntlo- *
men and ladies , with their masks and . '
gaycostumes.andsearchforhnrwithin. • ,
The cold was growing more and more
intense , and his purple little hands
wero numb. At length lie ventured j !
forward and climbed step by step un- *
til he reached tho vestibule. The
valets stared at him with astonish
ment. "Hello ! youngster , " said ono (
0j them , "what are you looking for
here your mother ? " and he chuckled t
a' his own wit , not thinking to ques
tion the little intruder so pertinently. i
The unhappy child dare not reply.
Besides ( , to speak of his mother in
such ; a crowd would insult her. "Ah , " ' -
thought he , "if she only know I was i
waiting here in the cold how quickly
she would como and take me back to
my little room where it is so nice-and , * - |
warm. "
, "What do you want here ? " asked •
the { ' valet again. "I want to go in i
there. 1 " said Emile , pointing to tho-
large doors.
"What for ? "
"To see " he began hesitatingly , . '
but tin valet , suspecting him to-be a.
gamin , would listen no further , and
harshly ? thrust him into the street-
Againoutside , he was jostled from-
group ; to group'receiving knocks from- i
every one who found him in their I
way. He was weak and cold , and alii
but prostrate , but he was sustained j
by the thought that his mother was- t
there ; that he would see her
when j she came out ; that he would run. * • , }
to . her and cng ! to her skirts , and. '
thatshe , would never leave him again. .
The . hours went by slowly , through' \ , ,
that bitter night. lie shrunk , away I . '
behind a door , until the chill air com
pelled . him to beg the coachmen to-
shelter him in their carriages. But J
theywarmly wrapped up , nodded in- > •
differently in their boxes ; besides , it i
was . of small concern to them that a. M
street urchin was freezing. I
V At last the guests began to depart. f
Emile posted himself atthe head oi * j
the great staircase , and anxiously
scanned each face that passed. Faster
and denser they came , the carriages
rolled . up ; the coachers hailed each
other in deafening shouts , and still
Emile ' s mother tarried. lie had hard-
strengcli to withstand the strain ,
and the tears were springing up to his .
eyes _ again when his heart gave a great
boundfor there she passed before him. I J
He . could not mistake that superb-toi
! Sue was taking the arm of her * ' " j |
husband , his step father. They did
not observe him. The carriage ad-
vanced , they entered , and we.re driven fl
away. , n
Then Emile's heart was filled with- * m
anguish , and he wished to die. He | l
ran after the carriage , and before the fm
horses had get well started seized the x 'M '
traces with his little hands , neither \m \
knowing nor caring what he did , such * \ < l |
was the transports of his despair , and : \ - k
was dragged under thecruel wheels. He f
uttered a sharp cry of pain and , al- jp
ready overcome by the cold , fainted. j
The carriage stopped , the occupants J
-
alighting , and then the mother , with- L " ,
out . a moment's warninu.found herself f *
the side of her little Emile , who
was white , motionless , and may
? dead. Divining the drama of J
the ' night through which her wayward- J
affectionate child had passed , she
turned to her husband , a mother's > *
exalted ' love making he : reproachful ,
and violent , and cried : "You see ! I w
told you so. We ou.ht never to have
come ! You insisted on it. Oh , God ,
- child ! " Entile heard the precious
words ! He opened his eyes , wound
" arms about his mother's neokand
a feeble tone : "It's al ! rght , mam
* . , " he whispered ; "I shall get well.
But you you will never leave me-
again , will you ? "
a 1
<
Jolly Old Von Moltke.
Von Moltke's face looks as thougbj
( natural skin had been replaced by
stretch of ancient and yellow parch
ment. The lines are innumerable
they radiate regularly from the * " :
corners of the mouth whon he smiles
ripples-from a stone that is drop
< through tha surface of a placid
pool. The smiles of the grizzled and.
wrinkled old field marshal are frequent
enough , too , when he is abroad. The-
small army of little children who are
taken to tha war office every day by
their nurses to see the old commander
stump about as thoagh a man had J
about reached his prime when
along in his S9th year , wavetheir
hands delightfully atCoutttvonMoltke. \
None of them has a more genial
winning , and child-like smile that the Z
head of the greatest army in the I
world. Military critics assert that J
one of the countless and masterly fl
documents on army affairs that Von B
Moltke has given to the world during * * H
' long life compares in force , clear- % |
, cogency and power with his re- H
port of the present year. Berlin Let- H
- r
It is understood that petition ? asking i
a commutnjion of the capital sentence j
pasaed on Gratiy and Ilacette. the murder- J
ol McLeish , the halfhreed , in Canada , J
ha.vo heen considered hv the Rovernor in '
council and the law will bo allowed to take '
course. The two men will therefore bo \
haujed at Rezma next month.
l
J
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